


Aftermath

by Kaslyna



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: 2.09, Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 08:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15770418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaslyna/pseuds/Kaslyna
Summary: What happened between Ethan and Vanessa killing Roper and burying him?





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fullmoonrisin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoonrisin/gifts).



> This is for fullmoonrisin because she dragged me down into this hell with her and said she wanted a fic about Ethan and Vanessa taking care of each others' wounds after they killed a guy together. I am not a medical expert in any way, shape, or form, I did my best and tried to gloss over things I really wasn't sure about. I apologize if it's way off, I tried. I haven't written in a while and never for this fandom, so I hope that I did okay and I hope you enjoy it!

She is shaking-with rage, with leftover fear, with horror that is lesser than it should be for what she has done.  _ This man would have killed you _ , she tries to tell herself,  _ and raped you before or after. He almost killed Ethan. _ It is the memory of the knife in Ethan’s shoulder that is perhaps the greatest cause of this shaking; she almost lost him. The tears start to fall at the very thought.

 

“Vanessa,” his voice is rough with the pain, and at her lack of response he shifts himself closer, groaning as the movement exacerbates the throbbing in his shoulder, “Vanessa, look at me. Just look at me, it’s okay now. You’re safe.  _ We’re _ safe.”

 

“We’re safe,” he murmurs again, close enough now to press his face against her. She startles at the contact, finally looking down at him, snapped out of whatever reverie she had been lost in.

 

“Ethan,” she chokes out his name.

 

“The keys,” he says, as gently as he can, “See if there are keys on him, for the irons.”

 

Vanessa nods at him and shifts closer to the dead bounty hunter. She cringes at first but does as she’s told, rummaging through his pockets until she finds the key. Vanessa crawls back to Ethan and unlocks the irons, his hands falling limply after they’re freed.

 

“Your shoulder,” she barely recognizes her own voice, still caught in the maelstrom following what they’d done.

 

“Your face,” he replies, huffing out a bitter sounding laugh.

 

She reaches up to touch her mouth, where her face hurts the most; blood coats her fingers. She realizes she had not even registered what had been done to her until this moment. It is a numb realization to come with a persistent ache, and a desperate itch to rid herself of the blood that is not all hers. Vanessa looks down, and finds her shift stained with the bounty hunter’s blood. Disgust consumes her and she begins to shrug out of it, sliding the sleeves from her shoulders.

 

“Get a rag and wash the blood off your skin first,” Ethan tells her, no judgment in his tone, “Then get a clean shift and change into it.”

 

“Your shoulder-” she starts, remembering him and his injuries now, as she hold the shift to her breasts to cover them.

 

“-Can wait,” Ethan finishes, a grim smile on his face, “I think the bleeding has stopped.”

 

Vanessa nods, and he averts his eyes to the floor so that she may let go of her shift as she stands. Ethan lies on the floor and feels more guilt for adding one more body to her count, for putting her in danger, than anything he has ever done before.

 

She returns no more than ten minutes later, in a clean shift and no blood left on her. Vanessa has brought a basin of water and a clean rag with her, and kneels next to him. First she cleans his face, and then a pensive look crosses her own as she examines his bloody shoulder through his shirt.

 

“Can you help?” she asks.

 

“I can try,” he answers. He manages to remove his suspenders and lift his shirt off his other arm and head before the pain becomes too much and he is forced to admit defeat.

 

She gives him a ghost of a smile, no more than a flicker, at the ridiculous state of undress he has found himself in. Vanessa is ever so gentle as she touches his cheek before she takes the shirt and pulls it off. Ethan swears at the pain of it and then Vanessa’s hand is on his face again, and he leans into her touch until his ragged breathing normalizes once more.

 

They are mostly silent as she cleans the wound out with water, Ethan’s pained hisses and groans and her occasional grunts of sympathy the only sounds filling the small cottage. Vanessa had found a bottle of alcohol somewhere and puts it on another rag next, holding it to the wound and Ethan does his best not to cry out in fear of scaring her.

 

“I don’t know how to stitch the wound closed,” Vanessa’s voice is pained, her face pinched. Ethan wants to kiss the furrow in her brow away.

 

“You could try cauterizing it,” he suggests.

 

“No,” the look she gives him is fierce, “I will not cause you that pain.”

 

“We can try to find a doctor to do it tomorrow,” he sighs, “It’s stopped bleeding, so it should be alright if you wrap it tightly enough.”

 

She nods, and then gets up to grab the bandages Sembene sent with them, just in case. Vanessa wraps the length of cloth as tightly as she dares, trying her best not to wince whenever he makes a sound of pain. After she had tied the knot, she looked up into Ethan’s eyes. Then she leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the new bandage, feeling the way he practically trembled under her touch. 

 

Ethan reaches with his other hand to gently tug her back so he could see her face. He brushes his thumb across the cut on her lips, and then removed his hand to lean in and press a chaste kiss to her own wound. Her breath caught in her throat at the tender gesture, no more amorous than her own kiss had been. He pulls away from Vanessa slowly, runs his fingers down across her face.

 

“We must bury him,” Vanessa reminds him.

 

“Tomorrow,” Ethan insists, “We both need to rest.”

 

“You should take the bed tonight, so that you won’t injure your shoulder further,” she tells him, standing so that she may help him up, “I can take the sofa down here.”

 

“I don’t want you to sleep next to his corpse,” his reply was gruff as he staggered to his full height.

 

“Then I will take the floor upstairs,” her voice is firm, and there is a stubborn determination in her face.

 

He sighed, scrubbed his good hand over his face and said, “We can spend the whole fucking night arguing over who sleeps where, or we could just share the damn bed.”

 

The look she gives him is sharp, but there is no true hint that his suggestion is wholly unwelcome. The truth is that she is not sure how well she will sleep tonight with the nightmares that will surely come to her. But here is a man who has vowed to protect her, who has sworn his purpose is to do so, and so perhaps it is not a terrible idea after all, no matter how she must keep him at arm’s length so as to avoid catastrophe.

 

Vanessa takes Ethan’s hand in answer, and squeezes it before letting it go. He follows her up the stairs. It is a small bed, but she is also small, and so with some shuffling they manage to fit in such a way as to avoid hurting his shoulder. Vanessa curls up against him, not bothering with any pretense when none are to be found.

 

In the morning, they will have to bury the man they had murdered together, but for now, they drift into a restless and uneasy sleep, the guilt eased slightly by the presence of the other so close.


End file.
